


Even In Hel People Occasionally Get a Sip of Water

by misreall



Series: Admitting No Impediment [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 19:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8070235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misreall/pseuds/misreall
Summary: An AU for my own series, Loki and Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist.  What would Loki be like if Odin had done the right thing and let him know as soon as he was old enough the truth about his origins?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hurricanerin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hurricanerin/gifts), [Caffiend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiend/gifts).



> Un-beta'd, again. Sorry.

“Me? With my think legs and flat face?”  Lotus Cloud exclaimed, her sense of the fitness of things was outraged.  “The Star Shepard fell in the love with most beautiful girl in the world!”

“Mere literary convention,” Li Kao said, with an airy wave of a hand. “Beauty is ridiculously overrated, and if that was all the Star Shepard wanted, he had the young goddesses of Heaven to choose from.  The Star Shepard had enough sense to want a peasant girl whose eyes held all of the hope and joy and wonder of the world, and whose grin could fell an ox at fifty paces….”

-Bridge of Birds, Barry Hughart

 

It was an exceptionally beautiful spring morning when Nora was almost killed by a god.

 

It wasn’t his fault, really, or intention, but she had been trying to catch a cab for the last three blocks and was finally disgusted enough to aggressively step too far into the street with her arm raised. “F’ing New York!”  She muttered.

 

And that was exactly at the same time he was driving the car he had just bought for the first time.

 

As he was an excellent, even gifted, pilot, he it seemed to him that this simple conveyance, with its crude combustion engine and steering device should be simple to operate. But then something started beeping at him, and then he bumped something else with the back of his hand and the top of the vehicle started to slide backwards, and then there was a woman in the road, her back to the automobile, with her hand raised!

 

Fortunately for Nora, the god’s brother was sitting in the passenger seat, snorting in amusement at the inept driving, and he spotted her a right away. Rather than try to stop the car, which would have no doubt skidded either into the woman or another innocent vehicle, he jumped out of the now open top, kicking off the hood, and grabbed her up and out of the way.

 

“By Bor! THOR!  That is the last time you drive, you oaf!” Loki yelled at his stunned brother.  Then he looked down into the confused but warm brown eyes of the woman he still cradled in his arms, “I am terribly sorry for- oh!”  He stopped, for the first time at a loss for words.

 

Nora didn’t know what was going on, but the most beautiful man she had ever seen was holding her on a busy street, having just saved her life, and his eyes were so deep and green, and his voice was lush and lit her on fire.

 

Which under the circumstances seemed like the weirdest reaction possible.

 

“You’re Loki,” she was whispering.  She wasn’t sure why.

 

“Yes, and the incompetent buffoon who almost shed your precious life’s blood is my brother Thor,” he nodded to where the large, blonde god was having trouble parking. He noticed them looking at him and offered a bit of an embarrassed wave.  “Ah, a proud moment for the Odinsson’s all around.”

 

The alien princes had arrived on earth nearly a year before, showing up in New Mexico on the trail of a rogue weapon from their planet, or something. It had been sort of confusing, but what hadn’t been confusing was the two them fighting together with a few companions to save the lives of everyone in a small desert town.   And then disappearing back into space.

 

Then, a few months ago, the UN had been contacted by Odin, their father who was the King of Space, or something. It turned out that his sons had been very impressed by humanity during their time on earth, or Midgard, and on Asgard it was felt that it was time that the little blue planets horizons were broadened, so he was sending his sons on a good will mission across the planet.  They had been the toast of every continent they visited, winning hearts with charitable acts, such as visiting children’s’ hospitals and retirement homes.  There were constant reports in gossip columns associating them with this or that famous beauty.  And much generous gift-giving, which was apparently a cultural thing.

 

Nora had seen on the news before going to bed the night before they had just arrived in New York for the last leg of their journey. The golden mountain of man hoisting his hammer in the air and accepting adulation, while the slender, black haired one charmingly handled all of the questions and flirted with _everyone_ in their audience with devastating accuracy.

It had never occurred to her that she might see them while she was in town, let alone get this close to one of them.  Loki carefully set her on her feet, and bowed, a hand on his lapel of his splendid black on black Italian suit. “And you are, mistress?”

 

Nora had never had anyone bow to her before. He was so handsome it made her feel very frumpy.  “I am – LATE!  Oh my god I am so late!  I have to get to Midtown in fifteen minutes!”

 

“Is that a family name?” he asked drily.

 

“What?” Then she snorted and tried not to laugh.  “Nora, Nora Walsh, and I can’t believe this but I really have to go.”

 

“Of course.” Thor had finally finished doing something not entirely unlike parking and had joined them. Just as he was about to say something, Loki whipped the car keys from his hands.  “I’ll drive.  Brother, why don’t you see if that new Uber app works?”  


 

“So your aunt was a singer? How fascinating.  Do you perform as well?”  Loki steered easily though traffic, occasionally helping reality along with a flick of his fingers.  A little well placed magic never hurt when one needed to move in a hurry.

 

“Only when I pretending to be someone who doesn’t hate my job. I am afraid I am not very convincing in the role most of the time.”

 

He smirked. And tried not to turn too often to look at Nora.  For one thing it plainly made her nervous, though he wasn’t sure if that was his looking at her, or that he wasn’t looking at the road. 

 

For another, it was making him go a little mad.

 

She was utterly lovely in the most hard to parse way. The tilt of her head, the direct way she had of meeting his eyes, the gentle, almost musical hitch to her breathing when he had swept her up and then when he had set her down.  Her smile. The way she seemed to enjoy a little recklessness on the road.

 

He was thinking about a smile and trying to find ways to make it happen over and over on the short trip.

 

It was as if _he_ had been struck by something rather larger and more dangerous than a car.

 

“Oh, there, pull over!” She was pointing to the right.

 

Nora jumped out, pulling down the skirt of her slightly too short green plaid dress. He really wished she wasn’t wearing those black leggings under it.  He could tell her legs would be worth seeing. 

 

“Don’t forget you wrap,” he tossed her the black leather jacket that she had thrown into the tiny backseat.

 

“That would be the worst. It’s my good luck charm.”  She shrugged into it, and then also put a booted foot on to the side of the car to tighten a lace.

 

“I quite like your outfit.”

 

“Sure. I am a guessing your socks cost more than everything I am wearing.”

 

“Well, they are very fine socks.”

 

“Thank you for the ride.”

 

“Thank you for not saying you would sue us.”

 

“It was my fault.”

 

“No, it was Thor’s. Very little isn’t.”

 

This time she could not stop herself from laughing, and Loki found himself enchanted at how she tried to stop herself, snorted so loudly it echoed slightly against the glass of the skyscraper, which made her snort harder, and then finally gave herself over completely.

 

Any woman who laughed like that must come magnificently.

 

 

Nora walked the whole, long way back to her hotel from the meeting with the record company that wanted to rerelease her Aunt Claire’s long out of print discography. The deal looked like it would happen, which meant many nice things for Nora, the most satisfying that her aunt might finally get some of the recognition she had missed out on in life, the most urgent that she could get the bungalow’s roof looked at before winter.

 

In the best of all worlds tomorrow she would be signing papers and initialing things, but for now she wanted to enjoy the weather, and her having time to think about her brush with celebrity.

 

That man, god, whatever he was (Nora had read a rather extensive Time article about Loki that explained he was actually an adopted member of the Asgardian Royal family, but that he was a prince from another species, and much less closely related to humans than the Asgardians). That Loki.  Nora knew she would be dreaming about him, or more likely actively fantasizing about him, for years to come.  From his looks, to his sonorous velvet voice, to the way he drove….

 

Nope.  She needed to stop that.

 

For now.

 

Instead she concentrated on how really ugly Tony Stark’s new building was. That was Stark all the money in the world. All his taste in his mouth.

 

When she arrived back at her hotel, a tiny, red-headed concierge came running, actually running out from behind her desk, waving an envelope. “Miss Walsh!  Miss Walsh!  I was instructed to give you this as soon as you returned.

The paper was very heavy, and inside the envelope was a black key card with a slightly raised wheel pattern on it.

“What is this?”

“It’s a key card to the Zodiac Club!” The woman was practically wetting herself in excitement, and she said Zodiac Club with reverence of an acolyte offering a blood sacrifice to ensure the harvest.  “It was delivered by Lady Sif!  Herself!”

 

It took Nora a minute to remember Lady Sif was a sort of bodyguard/bestie to the Princes Odinsson.

 

“She said they will send a car for you around eight.”

 

Nora figured this was their way of making up for her nearly deadness, and what the hell, she had never been to New York before, and if she couldn’t go to a Yankees game or the Opera, she supposed an ultra-exclusive club was the most New York thing there was.

 

“I don’t think I have anything to wear.”

 

The concierge gave an airy wave, and came down a notch. “Honey, if you have a key to the Zodiac Club, given to you by alien royalty, you could wear a fast food uniform tonight and within a week the designers would all be working on something called ‘MacDonald’s Chic.’”

 

 

Nora didn’t know what she was expecting from the Zodiac Club, but was not a walk down an alley in Greenwich Village, to a metal door, where when she stuck the key car in, opened a panel where a gorgeous black woman who looked like Iman’s better looking younger sister sat serenely.

 

“You birthday date, year, and time, my dear?”

 

Nora gave them to her, bemused.

 

“Ah, the Virgin and the Water Hound. Tonight you will bring joy to those who deserve it and frustration to those who don’t.  Enter and enjoy.”

 

“Um, thank you.”

 

The door swung open, and there were metal stairs going down. At the bottom was another door, this one guarded by two of the biggest men Nora had ever seen, both Hispanic, and wearing all white with several beaded necklaces.  Nora seemed to remember something about those outfits having religious significance, but she not any details.  One of them nodded at her and opened the door.

 

Inside was not…. Luxurious? Fancy?  What you would think of a club for the most wealthy and famous.  It was one room, as far as she could tell, but large enough that she wasn’t sure.  The walls were painted faded black, and the tables and chairs were just tables and chair.  Here and there were curtained alcoves, hung with what did at least appear to be silk brocade.   On the stage a man sang quickly in French, accompanied by a trio of woman playing, variously, a guitar, an oboe, and a xylophone. 

 

They were really very good.

 

A beautiful, dark-skinned waiter, dressed in a dhoti and nothing else, padded up to her with a tray of different cocktails that he offered with a servile flourish. Each one was a less probable color, with various flowers and twigs for decoration.

 

“I want something that doesn’t taste like it was wee’d out by a diabetic sugarplum fairy whose been binging on organic fruit juice.”

 

“I’ll bring you a scotch,” he said, in a flat, Wisconsin accent.

 

“Thanks.”

 

When he brought her drink could see Loki over his shoulder, when the curtain to one of the alcoves was opened. Thor was sitting with four girls on his lap while drinking a stein of beer, while the Lady Sif was telling a story to a legendary Broadway producer.  Loki was talking on a phone so thin it looked like he was holding an index card to his ear.  Seeing her, he slipped it into his pocket and actually swaggered through the crowd that mindless parted for him.

 

“I was fearing that you would not come,” he said, smiling down at her in somewhat….feral manner. “And I am glad you didn’t bother to change.  I have been thinking about that small dress all day.”

 

Great, now she was either imagining interest on his part, or things were about to get interesting. Although that seemed unlikely.

 

 “Do you tango?  I was given lessons in Argentina by the First Lady.  I am overjoyed she insisted.”  And with that he took her around the waist, grabbed her hand, and spun her out onto the floor.

 

 

An hour or so later Loki was past the point of reason and knew that if didn’t take Nora back to his hotel and spend the rest of the night pleasuring her he would probably end up having to ram his penis into a door-jam just so it would give him some peace.

 

It might even hurt less than the state of arousal she had him in. All with no effort.  They had danced, they had talked and he was delighted that she did not ask him about what he liked best about Midgard, they had watched each other drink.  Nothing unusual.  All of it remarkable.  Loki could not remember the last time he had spent an evening not talking politics. 

 

He was annoyed when he saw a call from Russia that he knew he had to take. He excused himself, “Vlad!  My friend, what time is it there?”  He wandered away from the table, and when Loki finally satisfied the most narcissistic creature he had ever met that, yes, his mother _loved_ the Faberge Egg, he hurried to return to Nora.

 

That pale singer, the one who kept introducing herself to him whenever their paths crossed over the last few months, had cornered her with vituperative intent, and Nora answered her anger with that explosive, and in this case convulsive, laugh of hers.

 

He decided he just couldn’t wait any longer.

 

He drew her away from the other woman, whispering in her ear, “Will you allow me take you home?”

 

Nora cocked her head at him and frowned. “Sure, I get it.  Yeah.  It’s been a nice night.”

 

Confused, he shot Thor a look that said, ‘I-am-leaving-and-I-suggest-you-stay-out-late.’ And got one back that said, ‘Yes-I-do-I-look-new?’ and then turned, putting a hand against Nora’s lower back to guide her before him.  The thin cotton was damp from dancing, and he wanted to grab a fistful of it.

 

When they reached the cooler outside, she smiled and offered him a hand, “Thank you for the lovely evening. It was nice to see how the other side slums.”  Nora’s voice was strangely clipped and he could swear her eyes were glistening just a touch.

 

“Apparently taking someone home does not mean what I thought it meant. I was certain my understanding of American idiom to be exact.  Why do you think I asked you to leave with me?”

 

“I thought you were telling me I had to go because I laughed at one of the important people.“

 

“No. I was asking you to go _with_ me because of this.”  

 

He reached out and gently touched a strand of her hair that had come loose from the plain bun she wore, and then coiled it around two fingers, using it to reel himself closer and closer to her, dipping his head and kissing her.

 

 

The Asgardians had taken the top three floors of a hotel so exclusive and cool it didn’t bother to have a name. Or a front door.  They entered through a different building, which pretended to be an out of business bodega, but was actually a very chic lobby with models and other splendid creatures draped on the minimalist furniture.  Everyone was so thin they looked like they barely had the strength to lift the delicate cocktail glasses they all were sipping something blue from.

 

“They are all going to have terrible hangovers, blue is the worst.” She said to Loki, trying to make a bad joke.  He nodded and smiled at her, but seemed to not to hear, and continued to speak Mandarin into his phone.  The same call he had been on pretty much since they had gotten into his car.

 

So much for her nonexistent fantasy about being debauched in a limo.

 

At this rate she wouldn’t be getting debauched much of anywhere.

 

They took an express elevator that made her ears pop, and by the time he had motioned for her to have a seat on the gigantic black velvet couch that overlooked the park, Nora was pretty disgusted with herself. Would she ever have put up with shit like this from a regular guy?  No.  She started to stand up as he wandered back into the room, still on the phone, his tie slightly loosened.

 

Fuck this.

 

Nora walked over to where he could see her and unlaced her boots and stepped out of them, giving him a big grin.

 

He cocked his head, letting the phone chatter in his ear.

 

She shrugged, letting her jacket slide down her arms and fall off.

 

His stare took in all of her, and she felt her body going on point.

 

Bending over, she slowly pulled down her leggings, wiggling her hips, and pushed the pile of cotton behind her with her toe.

 

The phone was now away from his ear, and a slow, snarling smile was splitting his thin lips.

 

Nora reached behind her, both arms bent back and unbuttoned herself, and then pulled her dreass and the old bra she was wearing up over her head and let them both drop to the floor. She was naked, the man she was waiting for was still completely dressed.  And she had never been with anyone So Much better looking that she was.  She really hoped that naked was the right move here, because she wasn’t feeling as confident as she was trying to act.

 

“It’s very rude to talk on the phone when you have a guest. But since you are a prince, I am guessing that whatever you do back home is considered right and proper.  But it isn’t.  You have one minute to end that call or-“

 

The phone literally disappeared. He didn’t put it down, pocket it, or even toss it, he actually made it disappear.

 

“You are utterly correct, Nora.” He drawled her name, his face close above hers, his warm, wine-scented breath caressing her face.  “I am deeply repentant of my behavior.  I tend to be what you call a workaholic.  Please, allow me to show you my contrition.”

 

One hand fanned along her face, stroking from her temple to her jaw, feathering along it, and then coiling his long fingers lightly around her the side of her throat, the slight callouses on the tips rasping her wildly sensitive skin.   His other hand rested on her hip, tightening and angling her so she pressed against him, the ridge of his thigh just barely between her legs.  He pulled her face closer so they were almost touching but didn’t kiss her again.  Instead he held her there, keeping eye contact as he nudged her legs further apart and dragged against her already wet slit.

 

“Are you, um, doing something to me?” Nora had become so aroused so quickly before.

 

“Yes. This.”  He bent his leg and used his hold on her hip to scrape her clit on the fine, slightly scratchy wool.  She grabbed his shoulders as her knees started to buckle, and he grinned in her face.  “But not magic, if that is what you are asking. This is just us.”

 

He worked her back and forth a bit, and Nora moaned, her mouth seeking for his, but he gave a chuckle and avoided her kiss, nipping in tiny, jolting bites all of the way to her neck.

 

Muzzily, she said, “I feel like right now this is just me, not us.”

 

Along her throat he spoke, his thin, supple mouth barely touching her but the heat of his breath making her squirm, “I want you to be very ….prepared…but trust that I am just as present as you. I have been very much present since I held you this morning.”  He took her one of her hands and worked it between them so she could feel his erection. 

 

“Oh holy hell,” she said. He gave a dry chuckle, and left her hand there.  She found herself stroking him though the fine wool, the godly length and breadth intoxicating and terrifying.  Then, Nora had always liked scary things – horror movies, driving too fast, snakes, and, now, sex with alien royalty.

 

“Ummmmm.” Like a cat he rubbed his face against her neck and shoulder, “Unzip me, Nora, I want to feel your hand on me.”  The rumble of his baritone on her skin made her whole body go tighter and hotter. 

 

He guided her.

 

His heavy, leather belt was supple and easy to work, and then it was like she could feel every tooth of the zipper vibrating through her fingers and going straight to her clit, and she moaned, as well. How could _that_ be so erotic? 

 

His cock freed itself, its weight and the fact that apparently Asgard did not believe in underwear causing it to practically fall into her hand. “I seek you out,” Loki laughed and this time he did kiss her, not an overwhelming, breath stopping event, like in the alley, but soft, wet, and sucking on her lips, moving away, and then back, away and back, while she fondled his velvety, intimate skin.

 

When he had her at the pace he seemed to want, so slow it was almost lazy, his hand found its way to the tight space his leg held open, and one long finger just barely worked its way along her lips.

 

“No, this isn’t good enough.” He picked her up by the hips, and she bit her lips to not whimper at the loss of his touch from her between her legs, from his hold on to her neck. 

 

Loki carefully lay her on the couch, and stood looking at her as he stripped himself of his jacket, tie, and shoes. His penis, rather than looking silly hanging out like that, seemed baser, cruder, as it stood against his silk-shirted stomach, the leather belt dangling on either side of it, the metal buckle making a soft, almost ominous clank.

 

He knelt on the end of the couch, near her feet, and ran one hand along her leg while stroking himself with the other.

 

“You are a vision, my sweet mortal. Sweet Nora.”  God, if just said her name enough times she would come.  “Your skin so pale and flushed, your mouth and cunt wet, your eyes challenging me.  I have never seen beauty like yours, and I have really, really looked.”

 

“I’m not especial –“

 

“Shhhhhh,” he raised a finger to his lips, and then, when she had stopped speaking, placed it on her clit and began to circle, pressing only a touch.

 

Nora’s hips arched up as her body pleaded for more pressure, more touching, for being filled.

 

“So needy for more,” Loki now used to two fingers, circling and pressing a touch more, and Nora trembled.

 

“I can’t wait. You are doing something inexplicable to me, precious one.”  He stretched out, his face between her thighs, and slowly, so slowly Nora thought she was going to scream in frustration, drew his fingers from her clit to her now quivering cunt and eased them into her. 

 

Then his mouth took her clit, lapping it, and fucking her with his fingers, playing a leisurely, deliberate counterpoint to each other.

 

It was maddening, each move ratcheting her higher, but offering no solace. While he murmured in a lazy tone, “More?”

 

Nora aroused past understanding, and her body felt a need to stretch. She arched herself, her arms over her head, holding the edge of the cushion, her legs wrapping around her tormentor, wanting to keep the source of her suffering right where it was.

 

She felt his unnaturally long fingers work themselves farther and farther into her, and she wanted to move but now he held her still, his other arm across her hips. Then his lips clamped over her clit, sucking, his tongue flat against the tip, while one of his fingers curled in her, on her g-spot, and the other stroked along something so deep in her that she didn’t know it existed, but with that firm touch against it she felt her mind go blind with thick, dark pleasure and her cunt gush with fluid and every part of her spasm and convulse against his hand, his mouth, another orgasm taking her and forcing juddering, almost painful moans from her, and mindless grinding against him.

 

Suddenly she felt arms around her, and a whispering voice crooning in her ear, and the fingers and mouth replaced by a long thigh giving her something to work against as her body both endured and tried to prolong the aftershocks. Soft, loving even, lips, pressed kisses on her temple and the side of her mouth, “Glorious.  Lovely.”

 

When Nora came back to herself, and could focus, she pressed her face against Loki’s black hair, inhaling incense and their combined musk and shook. After she stilled she bonelessly let him roll her onto her stomach and part her legs.  His elegant hands held hers in place on either side of her head, and he sunk his cock into her in a luscious, firm stroke. 

 

He was so big for a moment Nora couldn’t catch her breath, but he moved his hips so deliberately, each smooth motion a bit deeper, a hair faster, with a swivel of his hip working her nearly too sensitive clit into the velvet, that she found she could take him.

 

All the while his voice - the feel of its rumble where his chest lay against her back, the hypnotic tone of it brushing her mind, the burr in her ear, praising and urging her, telling her to wait, telling her to endure just a little more, just to follow him, just to be with him, and then, when it seemed that her whole life had never been more this bliss, and she wanted nothing more, she felt his pace change and he went on his knees, pulling her hips over his while her body stayed draped, and she missed the push of his hands holding hers in place.

 

Loki was strong, and she remembered that now as he simply slammed into her, his fingers and thighs bruising her, and she felt the sweat flying from his hair to splash on her back. A guttural sob left him, “Come with me, Nora…. Now….”

 

He pulled her up, so she sat backwards on his thighs, his cock agonizingly deep in her, and they came together so hard it seemed impossible they would come apart.

 

 

There was a breakfast being held in Thor and Loki’s honor at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The limo smoothly made its way through morning rush hour, with a little magical assistance. 

 

Thor was slumped in a corner, sleeping.   He had spent the night in Brighton Beach, learning to play the balalaika, drinking vodka, and fishing.  So far, of all the peoples they had met on Midgard, only the Russians and the Irish could come close to keeping up with Asgardian levels of indulging.  

 

Sif and Volstagg were conferring with the head of security from the museum.

 

Loki was supposed to be taking a conference call with the Canadian Prime Minister but instead he found himself pretending to look out of the car window. His thoughts blocks behind him, still in bed, holding Nora’s body, her skin smelling of warmth and apples.

 

He shook his head, dismissing the girl and her memory. She was just another companion for the night, like the many before her.  No matter how intense it had been, it was all it could be.  A prince had obligations. 

 

He looked with fond annoyance at Thor, hugging his hammer and snoring softly.

 

Well, Loki did, anyway.

 

As they pulled up he heard his phone chime. The Prime Minister was no doubt annoyed.  But it was a text.

 

\-- **Thank you for ordering breakfast. And for the dry cleaning!  Can I take a bath before I leave?  N.**   ---

He must have been sitting there for some time, picturing Nora sliding into the not quite as big as Loki would have like tub in his suite. Washing her long legs….

 

“Brother?” Thor was out of the car, stretching, “We shall be late.”

 

“Thor,” Loki gave his brother’s name several extra syllables, drawing it out, “Thor, you enjoy breakfast. Driver,” he called over the outraged squeak his brother made, “I will be heading back.”

 

“But, Loki, you know father said that you should be the one who talks!”

 

“One day, brother, you will be king, and every now and then I won’t be standing behind you telling you what to say. Today is an excellent trial run.  Just don’t sign anything, and talk as little as you can.  Practice those thoughtful facial expressions and nods we worked on.  Drive now. Today, if you please?”

 

Loki settled back into the seat and replied to Nora.

 

**\---Please bathe as long as you like. I really must insist. ---**

**Author's Note:**

> For old film and theatre fans you might recognize the Zodiac Club from the play Bell, Book, and Candle.


End file.
